


never the most predictable

by theprincesjester



Series: the world is still the same, there's just less in it [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: (yet), and being sad, and then suddenly it wasn't a joke, but it's an accident i promise, fear of alcoholism, grantaire and pierre bond over strange memory dreams, i don't even know at this point, i jokingly thought about throwing pierre in, i love him so much, i promise no one dies, it's another one titled after a pirates quote!, joly is a Dad Friend, learn from other people's mistakes kids!, might write an Actual Part Two to this, so he and grantaire could be friends, warning bossuet gets hospitalised
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21800878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprincesjester/pseuds/theprincesjester
Summary: Grantaire isn’t quite sure what draws him to this boy, initially; he’s awkward and greens and browns and a hint of red, but for some strange, unknown reason it’s almost as if there’s a magnet drawing them together. It’s not in the same way he finds himself drawn to Enjolras, or even the rest of his typical friend group, by any means, but it’s unavoidable nonetheless.It isn’t until Grantaire lets a bit of his nightmares slip into a conversation that he begins to understand why.
Relationships: Grantaire & Joly, Grantaire & Joly & Bossuet Laigle, Grantaire & Pyotr "Pierre" Kirillovich Bezukhov
Series: the world is still the same, there's just less in it [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570948
Kudos: 3





	never the most predictable

Grantaire is fourteen when the nightmares really start. 

It’s also when he’s fourteen that he starts to feel as if there’s a certain piece missing, not physically and not in the sense people typically tend to think of it. 

He’s fourteen when he hears about a man named Victor Hugo and the nightmares start up, really bad. They start… not exactly as nightmares, per se. More… almost memories threatening to spill out, and they aren’t… bad, exactly. They’re just  _ there _ . The dreams start out more unsettling than anything, dreams about the group he’s started to think of as his friends, ideas of them planning something—he can never remember what it is, when he wakes up, but he knows it was important, at least to the rest of them. 

He’s fourteen when he picks up a book the size of his head, one few had heard of but one that quickly became very important to him. 

He hides in the library to read it, stealing time to try to figure out what it all means. And that’s how he starts to feel less alone. 

Their first meeting is an accident. They run into each other in the library—Grantaire was just about to leave, he was just about to enter. 

His name was Pierre and he had a certain melancholy in his eyes that Grantaire could understand because he felt the same. 

Grantaire isn’t quite sure what draws him to this boy, initially; he’s awkward and greens and browns and a hint of red, but for some strange, unknown reason it’s almost as if there’s a magnet drawing them together. It’s not in the same way he finds himself drawn to Enjolras, or even the rest of his typical friend group, by any means, but it’s unavoidable nonetheless. 

It isn’t until Grantaire lets a bit of his nightmares slip into a conversation that he begins to understand why. 

“Yeah, uh… last night, I had this… I guess it does qualify as a nightmare. We’re in this cafe, and there’s… they’re getting these guns ready and I’m drinking wine and then…” 

Pierre nodded. “It felt almost… real, right?” 

“Yeah.”

“Like… less than a dream and more as if you’re remembering something?” 

Grantaire nodded and Pierre drew in a breath. 

“It sounds crazy,”

“I know, I know it does, but—“

“I believe you, obviously. I’ve, well… I’ve been having the same thing, kind of,” 

That was probably the most confident Grantaire had heard Pierre. 

“You have?” 

“Yeah. I mean, mine have been less… centred around me and everyone I really care about dying, but…”

Grantaire nodded. “So we’re both just fucked up and can’t tell anyone without sounding like we’ve lost it,” 

And Pierre laughs. “Basically, yeah,”

Grantaire allows himself to smile. “Well, look at us go, then, huh?”

“Yep, just imagine someone trying to wrap their head around all this,”

And Grantaire can—he does. for a fleeting moment he can actually imagine himself explaining to Joly, can actually see the other boy’s eyes widening and—

And he’s being shot at. 

Grantaire squeezes his eyes shut. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m… I’ll be fine. What about you? What kind of stuff do you have?”

“Well, uh… there’s some shit with Napoleon,”

“Oh, God, yeah. Same here.”

“And there’s these… guys. Anatole and Dolokhov? I think we were friends. We kidnapped a bear and… I’m pretty sure I tried to drunk and hang out a window,” 

“Pierre, no offense, but what the fuck?”

“Okay, listen, you were just talking about—“

“Point taken.”

They pause for a minute before Grantaire speaks up again. 

“So… alcoholism, huh?”

“Yeah. I… yeah.”

They both nod. 

“How about this… why don’t we go ahead, and we promise not to do that. Maybe something will change, I don’t know,” 

Pierre thinks for a minute then nods. “Yeah. I think that’s a good idea.”

“So we both agree to… what, not let alcohol take over our lives?”

“I’d say we try to go without it, but that might be more achievable,”

They shake on it before the bell rings and Grantaire has to go. 

“It was nice talking to you again, Pierre,” 

“You, too,”

And Grantaire feels a little less alone. 

Joly’s waiting for Grantaire when he exits the library, in crutches again. 

“Are you feeling okay? You haven’t been—“

“Yeah, I’m alright.” Grantaire smiles a little. “I’m great, for once, actually,” 

Joly hesitated before nodding. “I can leave you alone, then, if you’d rather—“

It took a second to process, but once he realised, Grantaire started shaking his head. “No, no! Not… No. I still want to be around all of you, I just… I made a new friend, that’s all, he’s…”

Joly’s expression changed into something protective. “He’d better be good to you. What’s he like?”

“He’s nice. No worry of possible addictions,” Grantaire smiled, remembering the agreement they had made. 

The poor, poor boy. 

“That’s good! And does he… feel—“

“Oh, no, no, we’re not like that. We just have a couple common interests, that’s all,” 

Joly nodded again. They walked in silence for a moment, before Joly broke it again, saying, “But you’re sure you’re alright? You look like you haven’t slept properly in a while,” 

“That’s because I haven’t,” 

“R, that’s not… a good thing, you know if you go too long without sleeping you could end up--” 

“Hurting myself, and if I go even longer I can die, yes, I know, you’ve given me this talk before. I appreciate it, but I’m fine,” 

“No, you say you’re fine to try to convince us you are when you want to avoid your problems,” Joly stopped, leaning on his crutches. Grantaire sighed and stopped with his friend. 

“Do you really want to hear about half of this bullshit?” 

“Of course I do! You’re my friend,” 

Grantaire hesitated before nodding. “I know. Thank you,” 

“Yeah, you’re welcome. Do us all a favor and don’t forget it, alright?” 

Grantaire nodded again. 

“Good, thank you. We love you, R, we actually do like having you around, sometimes, despite what you may think sometimes,” Joly smiled a little, starting to walk again. 

“Allegedly.” Grantaire followed after his friend. 

“What was that?” Joly turned around and Grantaire could see, quite clearly, that this was not the time to try with him. 

“I love you, too,  _ Dad _ ,” Grantaire gave him a small smile. 

“Damn right,” Joly laughed, just a little, and Grantaire’s smile grew. 

“I do appreciate it, really. I… if you really want to talk about it, we can, after school,” 

Joly nodded. “That would be good, yes, thank you,” 

\------------------

They left school together. Grantaire had spent most of the day since debating on if he should mention Pierre’s own dreams, what exactly they had bonded over, and ultimately decided on only saying what was necessary. 

Joly met him outside of his last class. “Where do you want to go?” 

“I’m alright with anywhere, uh… just be warned, it’s going to sound…” 

“It’s okay, it can’t be that bad, right?” 

So the two went to Joly’s house, where Grantaire began to try to explain what was happening. 

“Oh my God, it  _ is  _ that bad,” 

“I know,” Grantaire looked away. “Sorry, you don’t have to--” 

“It’s fucking… wow,” 

“Just forget--” 

“Are you kidding? That’s interesting. And you said that both of you are pretty sure these are…” 

“Memories, yes. I know, it’s--” 

“No, no! I mean, yeah, it’s… a little strange, maybe, but it’s interesting, and I think I trust you enough to know you wouldn’t lie to me, at least about something like this,” 

“Wh--” 

“Would it be okay if we tried to figure this thing out, together?” 

“Oh, uh… sure?” 

“Great! I’m… honestly not even sure where to start, but, uh… wait,” 

Grantaire froze. 

“You said that we were planning… a revolution?” 

“More like a rebellion, but… yeah, I guess,” 

“Did you… did you see the outcome?” 

Grantaire looked away, the concern in Joly’s voice almost too much. 

“I think I’ve… seen some of it. I don’t know what happens to me, but… most die, uh... “ 

“Oh.” 

Grantaire nodded. “Yeah,” 

“And you and Pierre… did you know each other?” 

“No, no, not at all. We ran into each other at the library,” 

Joly nodded. “And you two have promised to not… what, again?” 

“Alcohol.” 

Another nod. “That seems reasonable,” 

“I like to think so,” 

Unfortunately for Grantaire, he had overlooked the fact that he had already had alcohol a couple times in his life--not enough to do much, but enough for him to wonder about the burn as it went down his throat, and to consider the bitter taste it left on his tongue. 

And there was still time for him--for all of them--to become what they once were. 

\----------

Grantaire is fourteen when he starts dreading his birthday, each passing day weighing upon him. And he’s fourteen when what was almost unimaginable happens. 

**Joly:** R? 

**Joly:** R, please 

**Grantaire:** What is it? 

**Joly:** Bossuet 

  
  
_Oh, shit._

It’s all Grantaire can think. He knows that Bossuet’s luck is less than great and can only imagine what happened. 

No, no, scratch that--he doesn’t even want to try to imagine what happened to the blue and orange and brown and grey and yellow boy. 

**Grantaire:** Is he alright?? 

**Joly:** Hospital 

Grantaire doesn’t even know how to respond to the idea of one of his best friends being hospitalised--he doesn’t know how bad it is. 

_ Oh, god, not Bossuet. It’s not even close enough to time, dammit! _ Grantaire thinks, close to tears as he walks in circles in his room. 

Grantaire is fourteen and can’t bring himself to look forward to trying to face tomorrow. He figures he should’ve perhaps seen it coming but doesn’t even know what he should’ve been able to see. 

And he hates it. 


End file.
